


Happy Birthday, Arthur

by chasethatbluesky



Category: Joker (2019)
Genre: A legend is born ;), Angst, Arthur has a moment of happiness, Birthday Present, Birthday Smut, F/M, First Time, Gary is kind, Ha-Ha's Shop shenanigans, Oral, Randall is an ass, Smut, Two Shot, blowjob, handjob, nervous Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:28:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21809539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasethatbluesky/pseuds/chasethatbluesky
Summary: The boys at Ha-Ha's decide to gift an unsuspecting Arthur something 'special' for his birthday
Relationships: Arthur Fleck/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 45





	1. Chapter 1

“Hey Randall, when's the broad supposed to get here?”

A group of _Ha-Ha's_ regulars – mostly middle-aged men with drooping faces, flabby waistlines and nicotine stains on their fingers – were sat hunched around a rickety old table in the shop's main locker room, playing a round of cards on a gloomy late November afternoon under a thick haze of cigar smoke. They were waiting for their coworker Arthur to return from his gig downtown in order to surprise him for his birthday, having found out about it earlier that morning by pure chance after the awkward younger man had accidentally let it slip in conversation.

Randall, the unofficial 'leader' of the group, had taken it upon himself to organise something despite the short notice, knowing immediately what to get “his boy”, knowing too that the rest of the guys would get a kick out of watching the likely car-crash scenario play out.

“Don't worry, she'll be here soon,” Randall reassured absently, arranging his hand of cards into a tight fan. His weighted frame caused his chair to groan with every move he made.

“I wonder how Artie's gonna react?” Barney, a greying African-American clown, mused. “He doesn't seem like he gets much action.”

“You think he's _ever_ been with a woman?” asked Merv, the oldest employee on _Ha-Ha's_ roster. Sitting slumped an old string vest, he still had his clown-face makeup on, making his quizzical expression all the more animated.

“Hard to tell,” Randall murmured under his breath.

“ _Heh_ , virgin or not he'll probably just scream like he does and shoot his load before she even gets close to him,” Dante, _Ha-Ha's_ only resident male stripper, joked.

The group sniggered.

Randall smirked, though the smile didn't reach his beady eyes. “If he does, I'm asking for a discount.”

Footsteps echoed in the hall that adjoined the locker room to Hoyt Vaughn's - aka “The Boss” - office. A tiny-statured man eventually appeared in the doorway.

“Hey, guys,” said Gary, pointing a thumb over his shoulder. “Hoyt sais that Arfur should be back within the hour.”

Randall didn't bother to nod his thanks. Instead he merely eyed the smaller man. “You gonna join us, Gary? The stakes are _small_ , even for you.”

Not registering a response to the lazy jibe, Gary simply grabbed two cushions from the couch and climbed up onto one of the unoccupied chairs on the far side of the table. “Yeah, go on then.”

Dealing Gary in, Randall sat back and chugged on his cigar, feeling a brief tingle of excitement in his huge stomach at the thought of what was soon to transpire.

Having been stuck in Hoyt's office all afternoon helping the man fill out his overdue tax return, Gary had only picked up bits and pieces of what had been arranged. Being the only member of the group who actually liked Arthur, he felt a little uneasy when the guys proceeded to fill him in. It was obvious the others were only partly genuine in their wish to help Arthur pop his presumed cherry. Mostly they seemed to be hoping the troubled man might have a full-blown breakdown and provide them with some cheap entertainment.

“You don't fink it might be a bit mean to spring this on Arfur?” he questioned, his cockney rasp made all the more scratchy from the heavy smoke in the air. “Wot with 'is condition an' that?”

Randall glared over his hand at the smaller man. “Don't worry, the girl knows the score. I warned her about the laughing, and his general weirdness. She's just gotta do what she's being paid for.”

Barney leaned forward and placed a card in the middle of the table, picking up another from the loose pile situated next to a small mound of crumpled bills. “Let's just hope she's able to get up here without Hoyt seein' her.”

“ _Relax_ , will ya,” Randall groused. “Everything's gonna be fine.”

The group continued to play on for another few rounds, even cracking open some beers that Randall had thoughtfully gotten delivered up on the sly through one of his many 'friends'. The light outside gradually faded from orange to murky brown before eventually disappearing altogether. It wasn't until a second round of beers were opened that the guys began to wonder after Arthur.

“Hey, Artie's definitely coming back here before he goes home, right?” said Barney.

“He usually does,” Gary offered.

“Maybe he got jumped again?” Merv suggested. The gloomy prediction caused a brief downward shift in the room's atmosphere.

Barney shook his head. “Poor guy can't seem to catch a break. You see the bruises on his back the other week? Guy as frail as him shouldn't let himself be the punching bag of every passing punk on the street.”

“I don't fink 'e asks for it,” said Gary. “People just pick on 'im 'cos he's quiet.”

 _Because he's_ _ **creepy**_ _, more like,_ Randall thought to himself.

Handsome stripper Dante rearranged his cards, remaining unaffected by the others empathy. “ _Pfft_ , maybe he's just grown wise and decided to blow his paycheck on a hooker and some blow before he goes home to his mommy.” He placed his hand on the table, grinning as the other guys groaned and threw in their cards.

“Not likely on our wage,” Gary bemoaned quietly.

A small buzzing noise echoed up the stairs from the main door.

Randall perked up. “At last,” he huffed, taking a long drag from his cigar as he put his new hand of cards face down on the table. He then stared at Gary expectedly. “Fetch the door, will ya?”

Gary sighed and carefully slid off his chair, limping a little as he trekked down the poorly lit stairwell.

“So,” Randall drawled, making sure to speak only when Gary was out of earshot. “Who wants to put a little wager on tonight's entertainment?”

“What d'you mean?” said Barney.

Dante didn't need an explanation. “Twenty bucks sais Art doesn't last more than a few seconds, if he manages to get it out of his pants at all.”

Randall nodded. “Noted. Merv?”

The old clown grimaced. “The guy just seems too skittish to me. The girl's gonna have her work cut out for her just to get him to keep still for a second. I wouldn't be surprised if he bolted the moment he sees her.”

Randall mentally noted the option before turning to Barney.

“If we can get Artie to relax a little, maybe have a few drinks, I think he might be okay,” the man mused. “But I guess it all depends on how his day has been.”

“What about you, Randall?” asked Dante. “What's your money on?”

The sound of two pairs of footsteps echoing up the stairwell interrupted the line of conversation, drawing the group's attention behind them.

Randall smirked again as Gary appeared with a pretty woman beside him. _Whatever happens, it'll be worth it_ , he thought devilishly. Wiping his sweaty hands on his thighs, he rose from his chair and approached the pair.

“Guys, I'd like to introduce you to Celine,” he crooned, snaking a ham-sized arm around the young woman's exposed shoulders, rubbing her upper arm with a familiarity that was unsettling to everyone in the room. “Celine, say hello to the guys.”

“Hey,” Celine croaked, glancing each man up and down in turn as she chewed gum nonchalantly. Her dirty blonde hair was limp but styled, while her cheap clothes and heavy makeup easily gave her profession away. She barely came up to Randall's chest despite her towering heels.

“So, which one of you's Arthur?”

“Oh, he's not returned from his job yet,” Randall explained. “Here, why don't you have a beer and sit with us, until he gets back?”

“I'm not supposed to drink on the job.”

Randall squeezed Celine even tighter into him, smiling creepily. “I won't tell if you don't.”

Celine sighed. “Fine. But it'll cost extra if I'm here more than an hour.”

Randall shrugged. “No problem. Here, take Gary's seat,” he offered, ignoring the smaller man's silent indignation. “It's got cushions.”

The guys relaxed back into their normal chatter soon enough, leaving Randall to explain to Celine what he wanted her to do. She didn't ask any questions about Arthur other than when they were expecting him, making the group all the more quietly excited for his eventual return.

Finally, the main door was heard opening and closing, initiating a small flurry of activity as Randall shooed his guest out of the locker room and down the hall before quickly returning to resume the current game.

Arthur's heavy footfalls were heard slowly scrapping up the stairs, together with his customary clumsy stumble as one of his feet caught the edge of a stair. As he reached the top of the stairwell his already downturned painted face wrinkled even further in confusion at the scene which met him. He hadn't expected anyone else – apart from maybe Gary – to still be in the building, given the lateness of the hour.

“Hey, Artie!” Barney beamed jovially.

“We wondered when you'd make it back,” Dante added.

“H-Hey guys,” Arthur stuttered thinly, his exhaustion plain to hear in his voice. “What's goin' on?”

Randall rose from his chair again and prowled towards Arthur, mimicking his previous gesture with Celine as he placed his sweaty arm around Arthur's bony shoulders. “I couldn't let my boy go home without celebrating his birthday first.”

Arthur blushed, though the tinge of red was only visible under his chin and around his neck where his exposed skin was free from greasepaint. “You s-shouldn't... I mean, you didn't need to—”

“Sure we did,” Randall cut in, making Arthur squirm with a firm and overbearing squeeze of his shoulder. “Here, come and sit and have a beer. You've no doubt earned it today.”

Feeling he had little choice, Arthur complied, claiming the only free seat left around the table, glancing once over his shoulder to his locker before giving up on the idea of changing out of his sweaty costume. He reluctantly accepted a warm bottle of beer, taking a thin sip of the bitter liquid so as to appease the rest of the group. Him and alcohol were no more than occasional acquaintances, even less so now that his medication regime was more complicated than ever.

Looking his friend over, Gary could see that Arthur had indeed been working hard all day, judging from the state of his soiled makeup and his sweaty mop of dark, unruly hair. He wanted to try and help ease Arthur's nerves, at least until Randall sprung his 'surprise'. “You get on alright today, mate?” he asked kindly. “You look like you've been hard at it.”

Glancing down at his feet, Arthur nodded his head shyly as he felt the weight of the room's attention focusing on him again. “It was okay,” he replied, secretly hating how his soft, higher-pitched voice sounded like a school boy. “I got stopped by a couple of tourists asking to take photos with them.”

“ _Tourists_? Visiting _Gotham_?!” Dante spat. “Why in the hell would anyone pay to come here _voluntarily_?!”

“Maybe they come from someplace even worse?” guessed Merv.

“I heard that some people are already going out to 'Nam now that the war's over,” Barney remarked. “Y'know, like war-zone junkies. Perhaps these people are like that?”

“Did you charge them to take a photo with you?” Randall asked, fixing Arthur with his gaze.

Arthur shook his head meekly. “No. I don't think they spoke much English anyway.”

Randall shook his head too, in disappointment. “Could've earned yourself an easy few bucks on the side, Art. You gotta try and stay sharp out there.”

Feeling a wave of awkwardness, Arthur brought his bottle of beer up to his lips and drew another small sip, thankful at least for being able to do something with his hands. However, he jumped when Randall suddenly leaned over and tipped the end of the bottle even further up, making him unexpectedly gulp down mouthfuls the foul tasting beer.

“ _Attaboy_ ,” Randall crooned. “Don't want you fainting on us before you've had your surprise.”

Pulling the bottle eventually away from his mouth, Arthur forced back a choke as a giggle of laughter threatened to emerge from his throat before he'd swallowed the last mouthful of beer.

“Maybe we could do this another day, Randall?” Gary reasoned, eying Arthur's uncomfortableness closely, vainly hoping to perhaps spare his friend from the morbid embarrassment he was about to be subjected to.

“What, and waste the perfect situation we got goin' here?” Randall countered, letting it be known underneath his otherwise relaxed tone that he was _not_ about to have his little plan ruined. He clapped heavy hand on Arthur's shoulder, jostling him roughly. “Arthur would be disappointed if he missed out. Wouldn't ya, Art?”

Unable to think of an appropriate verbal response, Arthur simply let out one of the high-pitched cackles he'd adopted years ago to cover himself.

Randall gave Arthur's shoulder a second squeeze. “Hey, why don't you go and get cleaned up in the bathroom and we'll get your surprise ready?”

Thankful for the opportunity to escape, at least for a few minutes, Arthur nodded and rose from his chair, leaving his now almost empty beer bottle on the edge of the table. “Alright.”

The group exchanged a knowing set of glances over their cards as Arthur left the room, waiting until they heard the bathroom door creak open before downing their cards and craning their necks to listen out.

“Twenty bucks sais I get more action with Celine tonight than Arthur does,” Randall murmured.

Gary felt a shiver run down his spine as the other clowns contemplated the meagre odds of Randall being proven right.


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur shuffled into _Ha-Ha's_ dingy bathroom and exhaled a sigh of relief as he closed the door behind him. He was finally _alone_. Having been out on the sidewalk for nearly twelve hours, spinning a sign outside yet another closing store amidst a constant bustle of nonplussed passers-by, he relished the chance to remove _both_ masks he'd had to wear to get through the day.

He dragged his aching body over to one of the sinks and turned on the tap, allowing the water to gush freely in the hope that it would soon run hot. He then glanced up and gazed at his reflection in the dirty mirror, realising just how exhausted and dishevelled he actually looked. His clown makeup was sweat-streaked and smudged, accenting the lines and hollow regions of his face, making him look years older than he was.

Ignoring the depressing sight, he raised a hand to loosen his oversized tie a little before undoing his top shirt button, sighing again in relief. He leaned forward, allowing the tepid water to pool in his cupped hands. Before he could bring the water up to his face, though, a tiny flash of movement in the mirror suddenly caught his eye, forcing him to still. He gazed deeper into the mirror, trying to see what, if anything, was there.

Moments later, a small _popping_ sound echoed across the greasy tiled walls, followed quickly by the distinct lilt of a husky female voice.

“So, you must be Arthur.”

Jumping half out of his skin, Arthur let out a high-pitched _yelp_ and turned on his heel, searching out the owner of the voice in the shadows of the stalls.

Slinking forward a few paces, Celine blew another chewing gum bubble and allowed it to pop harmlessly against her red lips. The corner of her mouth curled upwards as she gazed at Arthur, raking her eyes up and down his tall form. Her eyebrow twitched provocatively in interest.

“I hear it's your birthday.”

“W-Who are you?” Arthur eventually managed to get out, finding it more and more difficult with each breath to keep an impending attack of laughter at bay. God, how he _hated_ being sneaked up on! He subconsciously took a step back to try and distance himself from the woman a little until he recovered himself, feeling the edge of the sink press up against his ass.

“My name is Celine,” the woman replied. “But you can call me whatever you like for the next fifteen minutes.”

Feeling his sluggish brain slowly kick into gear through the buzzing haze of exhaustion and alcohol that was swimming about inside his head, it eventually dawned on Arthur that he'd just been given his _surprise_.

Keen to get things moving, Celine gently closed the gap between herself and Arthur, crossing the bathroom with as much sophistication and allure she could manage in the decidedly _grim_ setting.

Arthur remained frozen to the spot, his rapidly rising and falling chest the only giveaway that he hadn't turned into stone. Unable to keep his gaze on the approaching woman for more than a brief moment at a time, his eyes darted skittishly between her and the rest of the room, searching for either a way out or a sign that the situation was some kind of send-up.

Sensing Arthur's anxiety, Celine tried to help him relax. “Hey, it's okay. We're all alone in here.”

Still unable to fully believe the situation he now appeared to be in, Arthur stopped breathing altogether as Celine closed in and placed a tentative hand on his chest. He was sure she'd be able to feel his heart attempting to break out of his bony ribcage, enduring a shiver of revulsion on her behalf for the gross frailty of his emaciated frame.

“Why don't we loosen this up a little more,” Celine offered gently, taking charge of Arthur's tie and undoing it completely, deliberately allowing a fingernail to lightly graze the dip of skin between Arthur's collarbones that peeked out of his opened shirt. She felt a shudder run through Arthur's body and heard his breath hitch in his throat. “There. That's better, right?”

Gazing wide-eyed at the woman standing before him, Arthur's senses were working overtime, overwhelming him. He could smell her heady perfume, as well as the alcohol on his own breath – _God, I'm such a lightweight_ he thought – wondering if she could already tell that he was a pathetic virgin. His hands felt like they were glued to his sides, while his chest _burned_ with nervous agitation. He prayed to whomever might be listening for the strength to keep down the cursed laughter that was again itching to get out, but he knew it was of no use. He baulked and managed to clamp a hand over his mouth just before a preliminary stream of giggles escaped his lips, scrunching his eyes shut and turning away from the woman before his body was racked with a full broadside of laughter.

Surprised by the sudden movement, Celine took a step back as she watched Arthur nearly double over and fill the room with raucous cackles. Even thought she'd been warned by Randall about the laughing, it was still shocking to be confronted with it, especially in such an enclosed space.

* * *

Back in the locker room, the guys shook their heads in dismay as Arthur's infamous laughter rang out.

“I told you he wouldn't last long,” Dante jeered. “You owe me twenty bucks, Randall.”

“Hey, don't count Celine out yet,” Randall countered, aware that he was speaking against his own prediction. “She's nothing if not a _professional_.”

“Maybe she's just not Arfur's type,” Gary mused, wincing at the sound of Arthur's distress.

“Guys like him can't afford to be _picky_ ,” said Barney.

Thinking for a moment, Randall then rose from his chair and headed towards the door.

“Where are you goin'?” asked Gary.

“Gotta take a leak,” Randall replied flatly over his shoulder. “Don't worry, I'll use Hoyt's.”

The rest of the group looked at each other, wondering if the fat man intended to interfere with his own plan.

* * *

Trying desperately to claim a satisfying intake of breath, Arthur struggled to control himself as his fit persisted, feeling the familiar stinging heat in his face as his humiliation was played out in agonising real-time in front of a stranger – and a pretty one at that! After what felt like a small age, he finally began to gulp back the larger convulsive chuckles, feeling his attack reduce down to the odd giggle. He was surprised to find that the woman – Celine, was it? – had not run for the hills, but was in fact still standing just out of arm's reach, looking at him with a mixture of what appeared to be bemusement and sympathy.

“I'm—I'm s-sorry...” he choked. “It's— _haha!_ I have a condit—”

Celine raised a polite hand. “It’s okay, I know. Randall told me about it.”

Grabbing the sink edge behind him to steady himself as a wave of post-episode fatigue flooded his body, Arthur was curious what _else_ Randall had told her about him.

Watching Arthur closely, Celine waited until it appeared safe to close the gap once again, cautiously taking a step forward. She reached out with one hand, though she paused before making contact. “Is it alright to touch you?”

Frowning and clamping his mouth shut as a bubble of giggles fluttered in his throat, Arthur nodded despite his apprehension, trembling a little as Celine's warm fingers lightly brushed his arm.

Celine looked at Arthur with a growing expression of empathy. “Look, we haven't got much time,” she advised, feeling a stirring of an almost _maternal_ nature in her chest – something she'd _never_ experienced on the job before. She guessed it had been brought on by Arthur's awkward, naive aura, placing her own silent bet that the man had little to no experience with women, intimately or otherwise. “If you want to do it, we'll have to be quick.”

The way Arthur's bloodshot eyes widened at the proposition told Celine that her hunch was _more_ than right.

“Alternatively,” she continued, sensing that Arthur's ability to speak might be somewhat compromised as her hand began to gradually inch downwards, “I can at least make sure you that you feel good for a few minutes – if you'd like that?”

Hearing almost nothing but the rush of blood in his ears, Arthur swallowed heavily. He weighed up the options Celine had offered him, wondering if he could – or even _should_ – take advantage of the situation, or if it was better to just cut his losses and leave before things got _serious_.

However, before his brain could make a decision either way, Celine's slowly descending hand began to _stir_ something in the bottom of his gut, overriding his attempts to try and rationalise his next course of action. Before he knew it, a low moan rumbled deep inside his throat, giving him away.

“Arthur...” Celine began, pausing to choose her words carefully, studying Arthur's face closely. “Have you ever been touched by another woman?”

Feeling a stab of embarrassment, and shame, Arthur focused on keeping his breathing regular as he watched Celine's hand creep further down his body. “I, _uhh_... n-no, no,” he murmured amid shaky breaths.

“Have you touched yourself before?”

Arthur nodded minutely after a long pause. “Yes...”

Reaching the waistband of Arthur's patchwork pants, Celine continued downwards over his clothes, starting to feel the outline of him against her palm. She rubbed the area gently up and down a few times, gauging Arthur's response, smiling a fraction as he let a groan slip out.

“Oh, _god_.”

* * *

Skulking around the back of the shop after relieving himself, Randall entered the darkened costume room and headed straight towards the far wall. He stepped up onto a wooden clothes box and peered into a tiny hole in the wall – one which just so happened to provide a perfect view of the bathroom, or at least the open area in front of the stalls.

“Well, would you look at that,” he murmured to himself, smirking at the sight of Celine gently caressing a near catatonic Arthur's crotch. The look on Arthur's face was priceless, making Randall almost wish that he'd gone with his original plan of having Celine surprise Arthur in the locker room so the rest of them could watch.

Hearing Arthur's thin voice croak out a few high, breathy whimpers, Randall knew he'd better be getting back, hoping as he left the darkened room that it wouldn't be long before things _stepped-up_ even further and Arthur provided the meltdown he'd been banking on.

* * *

Maintaining gentle pressure and motion for a while, Celine thought it a little strange that someone as obviously touch-starved as Arthur wasn't already rock hard in response to her ministrations. She decided to take things a step further, undoing the button of his pants and slipping her hand inside, feeling along his length through his underwear.

“Is this what you do to yourself when you're alone?” she asked huskily.

Arthur nodded his head. It felt strange – _dirty_ even – to admit such a thing to someone he'd only just met. But, given the fact she was currently sliding her hand up and down his manhood, he guessed it was almost appropriate to discuss it.

Feeling a minute twitch against her palm, Celine knew she was on the right track. She gradually worked Arthur's pants down to his thighs with her free hand, all the time keeping pressure on his crotch.

Feeling lightheaded, Arthur stole a glance down at the scene, knowing that his sluggish response to such _expert_ stimulation was yet another reason to feel embarrassed, cursing himself for being such a disappointment. The whole thing felt like a vivid, surreal dream, the kind he used to get when he was locked up in Arkham Hospital after they gave him the _good_ drugs.

Seeing Arthur's eyes glaze over slightly, Celine proceeded to dip her hand into Arthur's underwear, giving him skin-on-skin contact for the first time since they'd met. The move certainly woke him up, making his eyes flicker with surprise and arousal.

“ _Ah!_ ”

“You like that?”

“I, _umm_... y-yeah.”

Stroking Arthur's length, which had only progressed to a semi, Celine began to wonder how much further they were going to get.

“I'm sorry,” Arthur almost hissed through his teeth, swallowing down an errant giggle. “It's my... I'm on m-medication.”

“Oh, that's okay,” Celine replied, thanking Arthur under her breath for providing an answer to her unspoken query. “I sometimes get older clients with the same problem. Luckily I know _just_ what to do.”

With that, Celine dropped to her knees in front of Arthur and pulled his underwear down a few inches, allowing him to spring free. She took him in hand again and briefly touched her lips against the tip of his cock before blowing on it gently, smiling as the organ twitched eagerly in reply.

Barely believing his eyes, Arthur baulked again and brought a hand up to his mouth to hold back a burst of laughter as he watched Celine take his cock fully into her mouth, feeling a flood of new sensations as she began to swirl her warm tongue around him.

“Oh my god. _Oh my god_.” he mantra'd through his fingers, sending his gaze up to the flickering light above their heads, feeling a prickle of moisture in his eyes.

The floodgates now seemingly open, Arthur felt himself harden more than he'd been able to get in months, enjoying the rhythmic undulations of Celine's mouth as she thoroughly took _care_ of him. Not knowing what to do with his hands, he reached back and gripped the edge of the sink behind him, his knuckles going white with tension.

Pulling back to catch her breath, Celine looked up at Arthur through her lashes, getting a small kick out of seeing an unravelling clown stare down at her. “Does this feel good?”

“... Yeah...” Arthur managed to get out amid panting breaths.

Celine stroked her hand slowly up and down his length a couple of times. “You want me to keep going?”

Arthur nodded wantonly. “P-Please... yes.”

Complying with the request, Celine pulled out all the stops, wanting to give Arthur an experience he'd never forget. If his moans and whimpers were anything to go by, her plan was working _perfectly_.

Feeling a little more confident to look down, Arthur became mesmerised by the utterly _salacious_ sight of his cock appearing and disappearing in and out of Celine's red-lipped mouth, allowing the sight to burn into his retinas. This was better than any fantasy he'd imagined over the years, realising that his hand had been a poor substitute for what a real, flesh-and-blood woman could offer.

* * *

Having resumed their card game after things went quiet, the group in the locker room were more than a little curious to know what was happening down the hall.

“ _Huh_ , looks like Artie's not such a scaredy cat after all,” said Barney, smirking a little in happiness for Arthur.

“I gotta say, I'm a little surprised,” said Dante. “He must have some moves.”

Holding back a sneer, it was clear that Randall was getting a little annoyed at the lack of fireworks. He felt an increasing urge to go down the hall and slam open the bathroom door, just like his mom used to do to him when he was a teenager back at home. The longer time went on, he thought, the more compromising a situation the pair would likely be in, ensuring the desired response from Arthur when he was caught with his hands in the cookie jar.

“Not quite what you were expecting, Randall?” Gary mused, barely keeping a smile off his face. _Good for you, Arthur_.

Randall eye-balled him menacingly. “ _Can it_ , Gary,” he growled under his breath, feeling a growing concern for his own chances with Celine should she use up all the time _he'd_ paid for on the _creepy retard_.

* * *

Feeling everything and nothing all at once, Arthur enjoyed a brief respite from his incessant negative thoughts as waves of pure pleasure pulsed through his body. All too soon, however, he began to feel a familiar heat coiling below his naval, wondering through the fog in his mind how he should alert Celine of the impending event.

“Wait...” he breathed heavily, letting out a couple of high-pitched mewls. “I'm sorry. I—I think... I'm gonna—”

Hearing Arthur's voice, Celine stepped up her pace and hollowed her cheeks, wanting to help Arthur reach his peak in the most satisfying way possible.

Feeling a little awkward at the thought of emptying himself into a woman's mouth, Arthur tried to pull away as a courtesy, but he found that Celine merely held onto his thighs tighter, holding him against her. The act was enough to send him over the edge, triggering the release of the tight knot that writhed in the pit of his belly. He felt wave upon wave of bliss as he finally came, letting out a stream of genuine, heady giggles as relief washed over him.

Waiting until she could feel the last wave of Arthur's orgasm subside, Celine quietly wiped a small dribble of saliva from the corner of her mouth before returning to her feet, smirking a little at Arthur's thoroughly spent expression. She placed a hand on his bicep to help steady him, still feeling a slight tremor in the limb.

Arthur tried to bring his breathing under control, smudging a patch of his makeup almost clean off when he dragged a hand absently down the side of his face. “ _Umm_ , that... that was,” he mumbled, feeling the need to say something but having no clue of what was supposed to be said. “Th-Thank-you. So much.”

“No problem, sweetie,” Celine replied with a smile.

Feeling a small wave of embarrassment now that he'd come down from his euphoric high, Arthur sought to tuck himself back into his pants, running a hand through his sweaty dark curls as a thought began to niggle at the back of his mind.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “I feel kinda bad that I just, that you didn't..”

Amused by his attempt to be gentlemanly, Celine shrugged her shoulders. “Don't worry about it.” She then smiled. “Perhaps another time...”

The thought of 'another time' sent a jolt of excitement through Arthur, though he didn't want to get ahead of himself. For now, he simply wanted to get cleaned up and make his way home before the guys goaded him into revealing what had happened.

Sensing that their little session was over, Celine released Arthur's arm and took a step back. “Why don't you finish what you came in here to do, while I go talk to the boys?”

“Okay,” Arthur complied simply, smiling at Celine as she left the room. Alone again, he rounded back on the mirror and turned on the faucet, burying his newly grinning face into the water pooling in his hands.

* * *

Making her way back to the locker room, Celine found herself to be the instant centre of attention.

“Hey, there she is,” Randall croaked, his tone somewhat irked. “I was beginning to think something had gone wrong in there.”

“How did our boy do?” asked Dante. “Did the earth _move_ for either of you?!”

Deciding that it would be fun to play the game, Celine fell into character. “Arthur's just cleaning up,” she said demurely, eying each man innocently. “You didn't tell me he was so well _put together_. And so versatile!”

Falling into a stunned silence, the group were at a loss as to what to say.

It was Randall that eventually cleared his throat. “Yeah, well, I don't call you up just for kicks, babydoll,” he crooned. “Art is my boy, after all. Say, what's about you and me go out this evening? Have a little fun of our own. Sound good?”

Celine cracked a fake smile. “Oh I'm sorry, Randall. I'd have loved to, but your friend _really_ tired me out. Maybe another time?”

Hearing the odd muffled snigger around the table, Randall drew up a fake smile of his own and nodded his head. “Okay. Sure.”

Arthur's shuffling footsteps were then heard coming down the hall, prompting the guys to turn and look as he entered the room.

“Here he is!” Dante exclaimed. “The conquering hero!”

Surprised and embarrassed by the attention, Arthur felt the tips of his ears begin to burn.

“I guess looks really are deceiving,” Barney joked to Merv out of the corner of his mouth.

“I'd better be getting home,” Arthur mumbled, feeling a tinge of pride at the looks of awe and respect that met him – despite the fact he couldn't figure out why the guys were acting so strange. “My mother worries when I'm back late.”

“I'd love to be a fly on the wall when _that_ little conversation goes down this evening,” Dante mused to Gary, whom himself couldn't help but feel happy and relieved for his friend.

Stepping over to his locker, not even caring to change out of his Carnival attire, Arthur grabbed his bag and faded yellow jacket before heading towards the door. As he passed Celine he smiled. “It was nice... meeting you,” he offered sheepishly, wondering if he should shake her hand or something.

Halting him briefly, Celine stepped forward and placed her mouth beside his ear, out of sight of the rest of the room, making it look as if she were giving him a kiss. “Happy Birthday, Arthur,” she whispered, gently squeezing his bicep for good measure.

Feeling a sense of renewed confidence, Arthur winked at Celine and strode out of the room, giving Fred Astaire a run for his money as he practically skipped down the stairwell and went out into the night.


End file.
